


I slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow's dreams

by prouvairing



Series: Sense11 [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sensates, Multi, Psychic Sex, Sense8 Fusion, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prouvairing/pseuds/prouvairing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a quiet night in Santorini, and not so quiet in São Paulo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I slept in last night's clothes and tomorrow's dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Pasha [buntaire](http://buntaire.tumblr.com/) and I have been discussing Cluster AU for a little while, and of course the first thing I write for it is psychic sex. Sue me.  
> Shame on me, this isn't even 1k.

She wakes up, heat coiling low in her belly, and Joly is beneath her, gasping.

She is lying in her own bed, with the smell of the sea drifting in through the open window, sheets sticking to her skin, sweaty in the heat – and she is in a small room with orange-painted walls leaning on her elbows and Joly is sucking her lower lip in his mouth, kissing her so well.

She is Musichetta, and it is 1am in Santorini, and she is Bossuet, and it is 7pm in São Paulo.

Joly is laughing in her – his – mouth, and asks, “Is she here?”

She says, Bossuet says, “Yes.”

Joly’s smile is like sunshine, and Bossuet loves him – she knows this like she knows that her heart is hammering against her chest. She feels it, whatever he feels.

Like she feels the way Joly opens up for him as he thrusts inside, like she hears his low, breathless keen. She feels it when Bossuet rocks against him.

And then – she’s in the room, and sees Bossuet’s back shift and glisten, and Joly’s tanned calves wrapped around his hips, and she draws near. Still in her nightgown she crawls across the bed and Bossuet turns to her and his teeth shine in the low lights when he smiles at her.

“Hello, love,” he says.

She kisses him, and feels it twice, and God it is like electricity.

“Hello, handsome,” she says.

“Tell me,” Joly says, half-broken, and makes a high, breathless sound against the next thrust.

“She’s beautiful,” Bossuet says. “She says you are too.”

Joly moans. Musichetta smiles and bends to kiss his cheek even though he will not feel it. She still tastes the salt of his skin on her tongue.

She is both on her knees by them, whispering in Bossuet’s hear, stroking his back, dropping kisses against his shoulder – and driving into Joly, the rhythm of her hips stuttering as the heat in her belly tightens.

Bossuet’s mouth is against hers, then, and he is holding himself up with one hand and reaching for her, hand wondering, finding its mark between her legs.

“Nice coordination,” she gasps, as his fingers slip inside of her.

Bossuet laughs, even now, and says, “You’re very inspirational.”

“Darling,” she says, he says, to Joly. “I don’t think I can do you both at once.”

“So humble,” Joly laughs, then reaches for himself.

They don’t all come together – that would be quite logistically impossible – but they do so in wonderful broken rhythm. Joly first, tightening around Bossuet – and oh, that is a novel sensation for her. His voice goes thin and broken, and he exclaims, “Oh!” as if surprised.

Bossuet and Musichetta – tied together, in body and mind – do so in quick succession. The pleasure bursting through him, the sensation of spilling inside Joly, brings her over the edge, and she’s gasping into Bossuet’s mouth too.

They fall into a broken heap, and Bossuet is laughing.

He swears, in Korean, and Joly is still trying to catch his breath, but he still paws at his back and says, “What? What?”

“It was like – like coming twice,” Bossuet says.

Musichetta, collapsed at their side, giggles. She is tracing phantom patterns on Joly’s bicep.

“Mmmh, jealous,” Joly purrs.

They stay like that. Bossuet looks up to watch the moon reflecting in the caldera outside Musichetta’s window, and she keeps her eyes on the rise and fall of Joly’s chest.

“The view outside her window is beautiful,” Bossuet whispers.

“Wish I could see it,” Joly says.

“He will, some day,” Musichetta replies. Bossuet reports her words out loud. “You’ll come visit. Yia-yia will love you – when she is done crying over the fact that I am living in sin with two men.”

“Her grandma thinks we’re sinful,” Bossuet concludes.

“Baby, don’t you know it,” Joly replies.

They lie there, for a little while, after Bossuet has softened and slipped out, and rolled to his side.

Then, Joly says, “Can I speak to her?”

Musichetta shifts, meets Bossuet’s dark eyes across Joly’s chest. She asks, “May I?”

“Of course,” Bossuet says to both of them.

She is looking through Bossuet’s eyes, raising Bossuet’s hand, she is the one lying at Joly’s side and reaching out to wrap an arm around his waist.

“Hi, gorgeous,” she whispers.

“Hi,” Joly whispers back, and there is awe in his voice. “This is brilliant.”

He shifts to his side, so they are nose to nose, and closes his eyes.

“So I can pretend it’s you,” he explains.

“It is me,” she says, then giggles.

He smiles. “I can’t wait to meet you, Miss Musichetta.”

“I feel like I have already met you,” she says. “But it would be nice to kiss you. Really kiss you.”

Joly huffs, and kisses her. It is slow – slower than before – and so, so gentle. At least, until the first scrape of teeth against her lip.

“Miss Chetta,” he says. “You taste remarkably like my boyfriend.”

Musichetta laughs. “Ah, you see, Mr Joly, I have been kissing your boyfriend.”

He gasps. “Scandalous.”

“You can hardly blame me. He is a really good kisser.”

“That he is,” Joly says. His eyelashes flutter. “It’s okay. My mother taught me to share.”

His grin is wicked and it makes her laugh again.

Then he asks, “Were you fucking me too, then?”

“Yes,” she says, and tightens her hold on her hip.

He hums. “I wouldn’t mind you doing that again. Excellent technique.”

“It wasn’t my first time,” she admits.

“Scandalous,” he whispers again.

“Ah, yes. You should see my strap-on. It sparkles.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” Joly says. “I plan on becoming very well acquainted.”

Musichetta laughs, and so does he. And, within her, around her, Bossuet does too.

“I think,” she says. “That you will get on very well.”

**Author's Note:**

> The situation for now is: Musichetta and Bossuet are in a cluster with the rest of the Amis, save for Marius and Joly, who are your Supportive SOs. Bossuet is, in fact, from South Korea, but he is visiting the boyfriend's hometown (there was a tentative headcanon that they met on the internet I think?)  
> I don't think any of this is set in stone, honestly.


End file.
